Twenty Five Years Ago
by meniscus
Summary: Oh lot's of fun things happen here...[that was sarcasam] this is about Filch, everything he loves is distroyed, except for the family cat. PG for gore


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling, the forth-greatest writer in the world.

Note: Like I said before, I'm almost scared to write a note because they always wind up being contradictory to my actually writing. However, I will say this: No, I honestly don't think is an even SORT of believable for Harry Potter, but I'm bored and I want to get to the thirty fics mark before October.

"No wonder he's bitter" ~ Ron Weasley

* * * *

"You do not go in there! Clear?" Snape demanded, glaring at Filch.

"Sorry, SirI wasn't sure, but honestly, I didn't think --"

"That's fine, just don't go in there again," said Snape quickly and turned into his office. Filch sighed and started up his stairs, Mrs. Norris was no where in sight and he was done his duties for the day. 

__

Almost twenty-five years today. He thought sadly. It had been almost twenty-five long years since he'd been working this job. Filch walked down a corridor, glowering at a few students who were watching him with feigned innocence. Normally, Filch would investigate, but today, he honestly didn't care. Because, on this day, a long, long time ago, he had come home one cold and sunny afternoon to the deaths of everyone he'd loved.

* * * *

He could still remember the crisp breeze whispering around him, the sunlight bathing everything down the street a golden colour. He'd felt at ease with life, he was thirty years old, and his beautiful wife and daughter with the family cat were waiting for him at home. Then by chance, he'd looked up; it had taken a few seconds for his brain to register the Dark Mark. A physical blow couldn't have hurt more. " NO!" He cried and hauled the door open. The air was tense inside. The first thing Filch saw was the telephone, glistening in a patch of sunlight on the wooden floor. It was so quiet; Filch ran into the kitchen, it was empty. The window was shattered though, and broken shards of glass were scattered all over the table and counter, reflecting the sunlight in blinding patterns. 

Flich shook his head; he didn't want go any further. Still, he went into the next room, the room he shared with Diana, his wife. Filch opened the door and shut it immediately. He'd only had a glimpse at the sky blue room, but what he had seen would haunt him forever, the white bedspread, covered in dark blood. Lying on the floor was the body of Diana, staring blankly at the ceiling, an expression of horror stamped on her soft face forever.

Filch ran to the bathroom and vomited, it helped, a little. Then, dread coursing through every vein in his body, he went upstairs.

It was still, the very air seemed to be stale, Filch could feel his sweaty hand shaking as he turned the doorknob of his daughter's room. Flich opened the white door and gasped with horror. All of her dolls were lying in a heap; their heads ripped off. Filch stared around the room, almost expecting something to jump out at him, but nothing did, everything was agonizingly still. Then he noticed something, a dark stream of dark liquid snaking out from the closet. Filch swallowed and opened the doors.

She was sitting there, clutching a teddy bear, soaked in blood. Her wide innocent eyes watering.

"Daddy, I've got a hurt," she whispered.

"Y-Yeshoney, h-hold on, I'm going to get you some help, okay?" he stammered. 

"Don't go anywhere, I'm scared," she said, her pale hands squeezing the teddy even closer.

"I-I won't, I promise," said Filch, utterly paralyzed with shock and anger. 

"Are you scared?" she asked, looking at him.

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm very scared," Filch said, feeling long a waited tears stinging the back of his eyes.

"Don't be, Daddy, I don't hurt anymore," she said gently. Then suddenly her head dropped to one side and lay, resting lightly on her teddy's head, her eyes closed at last.

Filch sat down and cried, he couldn't go on, he shouldn't have to go through this, it wasn't fair, nobody should have to go through this. 

* * * * 

"Oh sorry, sorry! Professor Magonagall, you caught me around a blind corner there" Filch exclaimed as books and paper flew all over the hallway.

"No, that's fine, no problem," she said, flicking her wand and saying "accio!" Filch nodded and left, watching as Magonagall's scattered objects easily flew into her hands.

Often, Filch wished he was a muggle, at least that way he wouldn't have know what he was missing. That was the worst wasn't it? Growing up around something, seeing other people use it all your life, all the while knowing that you could never, ever have it.

* * * *

"All I really wanted was to be like you" ~ Nickleback

* * * *

So, how was that? I know Filch isn't a very popular character, but then again, I figured that hey! You never know where an unexpected new source of angst can be found. Anyway, thank you for reading, please review this, it took a while.


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